


Remember

by Rexxy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rexxy/pseuds/Rexxy
Summary: “I can’t remember your name…” Enjolras felt like hitting himself it was so frustrating. “I can’t remember anybody or anything, but…”“What?” The curly haired man sat on the side of the bed (the only free space to sit) and looked at Enjolras with a carefully unemotional look.“I love you.” Enjolras has been ran over and hit his head, causing temporary memory loss.





	1. Chapter 1

When Enjolras woke up, he saw fuzzy figures around his bed. One of them had short blonde hair, glasses, and was wearing a long, white coat. Doctor, then. “Enjolras, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” The man asked, concerned though Enjolras scratched that up to him being a doctor.

“I’m okay as far as I can tell.”

“That’s good.” Came another voice. “We were all so worried about you.” Enjolras turned and found another man sitting in a chair beside his bed with wild dark hair and dimples. Sitting on the floor and leaning on the side of the chair was another man in a white coat and sitting in front of him on the floor was a small bald man. 

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? You got ran over.” Someone said, female this time. He turned his head and found a blonde girl sitting opposite him in a chair at the end of the bed with a freckled man on one side of her and a brunette girl on the other. It was then Enjolras realised he was in fact in a hospital bed, which explained the doctors.

“I did?”

“Enjolras… Do you know who we are?” A man asked from where he was sat on the lap of a more muscular man on a plastic chair in the only other available space in the room, apart from where there was a long haired man on the floor leaning against that chair. 

“Should I? Are you medical students?” The strange people looked around at each other and gave concerned looks. “What’s going on?”

“When you were hit, you fell and hit your head.” The first doctor said. “It’s nothing to worry about but you have a little bit of temporary memory loss. The part of your head you hit is not as damaged as it could be and when it heals you should be fine, but it will take time.”

“What’s your name? Are you my friend?”

“I’m Combeferre, and yes. I’m your best friend.”

“Lies!” Shouted the dimpled man. He turned his attention to Enjolras, who smiled a little despite his confusion. “I’m Courfeyrac and I’m your real best friend, he just wishes he was.” He then pointed to the other doctor, “this is Joly, who is in fact a medical student, and that bald one in front of him is Bossuet.” He ceased his pointing. “The blonde girl is Cosette, the other Marius.” He got a glare from Combeferre. “Fine the other girl is Eponine, the freckled one is Marius. The other floor dweller is Jehan and the big lumberjack looking guy is Bahorel, and his little boy toy is Feuilly.”

“I’m not a boy toy I’m older than him.”

“It’s what’s inside that counts.”

“Courf that doesn’t even make sense…” The room trailed off into bickering and laughing and Enjolras gladly listened, taking his mind from the fact that he should know these people because they clearly knew him and there was a big chunk of his memory missing and he didn’t know how to remember and it was really frustrating and he was about to panic but then a tall man with untamed, curly black hair and tattoos and stubble walked in and his heartbeat picked up tenfold, which Combeferre noticed and was concerned until he saw the line of Enjolras’ sight. “What did I miss?” The beautiful stranger asked with a deep voice.

“You…” Enjolras gasped. The stranger looked at him with deep, attractive brown eyes. Eponine leaned to whisper in Grantaire’s ear, and his face fell a little (probably saying that he wouldn’t remember anything for now), then he put his hand behind his back for a minute and slipped something into his pocket and stood still with his arms by his sides looking at Enjolras curiously.

“What is it?” He asked softly, coming forward slowly.

“I can’t remember your name…” Enjolras felt like hitting himself it was so frustrating. “I can’t remember anybody or anything but…”

“What?” The man sat on the side of the bed (the only free space to sit) and looked at Enjolras with a carefully unemotional look.

“I love you.” Grantaire’s breath hitched and Enjolras took his hand in both of his. “Do you know that? I remember your laugh. I love that too. It’s low and grumbly and rare to hear but I love it.” Enjolras tilted his head curiously when Grantaire blushed a little. “You’re an artist.” Not a question, but a statement. “You’re an artist and you like green and- and I love that and I love you but I can’t remember anything.” He’d started off excited but that had went down hill when he realised he actually knew very little. He took his hands from Grantaire and pulled at his hair as tears filled his eyes. “I don’t want to forget.”

“It’s okay don’t put too much pressure-“

“We argue.” He said suddenly, and tears poured from his eyes at an overwhelming wave of sadness brought on by the stray thought even as he tried to hold them in by force of will. “God, I don’t want to remember!” He tugged at his hair harder, ignoring the hands on his wrists trying to pry them away. “I hate myself for it. You hate me for it, don’t you? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He chanted, curling in on himself as the people around him teared up themselves. “I said I didn’t like your hair once but I do I love it it’s soft and curly and perfect like the rest of you.” He felt somewhere in the back of his mind that he was overreacting. God, was he like this all the time? No wonder the man didn’t like him. “I can’t remember why we argue or why I upset you because all I know is that I love you and always have and still do and always will. Why is that all I can remember?” He gave up with his hair and tried clawing at his arm to try and relieve some of his tension but the man in front of him took his arms away from each other then pulled Enjolras to his chest as he sobbed and stroked his hair. 

“Shh…” The man said, and Enjolras wound his arms around the other and held tightly as if he may disappear if he let go. “My name is Grantaire, and I don’t hate you.” The rumbling of the other’s chest against Enjolras’ cheek calmed him somewhat but not completely. “I think you’re wonderful and our arguments don’t make me upset. They’re stupid, pointless bouts of bickering brought on by stress and we always forgive each other. Do you know why?” Enjolras shook his head and sniffled. “Because I love you too.” Enjolras sat back and looked up at Grantaire disbelievingly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Do we um… I want to ask if you’d like to… I-“ He sighed and shook his head, waiting for the sentence to form then looked down sheepishly and spoke lowly to Grantaire. “Will you be my boyfriend?” Enjolras’ cheeks flared bright red as Grantaire laughed and he felt his lip shake as tears started to spill again. Grantaire noticed this and put his hand into his back pocket to retrieve what he’s put there earlier and opened up Enjolras hand, placing the cool metal there.

“Don’t cry mon Ange, I can’t be your boyfriend because I’m already spoken for.” Enjolras hitched his breath in attempt to stop a sob and nodded, looking away embarrassedly, then opened his hand to look at what Grantaire had given him. It was a golden ring, a wedding ring. Well, fuck. His eyes glossed over as he turned the ring in his hands and then handed it back to Grantaire, who slipped it on his finger then leaned over to the small table by the side of his bed and picked up something else, which turned out to be another ring and slipped it onto Enjolras’ finger. The blonde stared at it quizzically for a few minutes.

“You mean it? Do you really?” Enjolras asked, as if Grantaire’s huge loving smile wasn’t answer enough. Grantaire nodded and Enjolras flung himself into his husband’s arms, then kissed him with all the love and emotion he could at that moment, which was a lot since he could only focus on one thing. He spoke happily between kisses, completely overjoyed. “I love you.” Kiss on the left cheek. “I can’t believe you’re my husband.” Kiss to the forehead. “You’re perfect.” Kiss to the right eyebrow and another two around that general area. “You’re smart,” kiss to the right cheek, “and beautiful,” kiss to his chin and quite a few up and down his jaw, “and loving,” numerous kisses to his left eye after he closed it, “and kind.” Kisses from his temple to the side of his mouth then more quick kisses and then one that went deeper. Whoops were heard from around the room as well as some sniffles and laughter. Everyone had been crying, even Bahorel. “Can we go home?” Asked Enjolras.

Grantaire looked to Combeferre who nodded his consent. “Sure thing. You’re going to love the colour scheme.”

“Is it green?”

“No its your favourite colour.”

“I can only remember green.” Grantaire blushed at the admittance and Enjolras laughed.

“You’re so adorable.”

“Me?! You forgot your own favourite colour but remembered mine that’s the cutest thing ever and you didn’t even mean to do it.”

“If it makes you this happy remind me to get hit by cars more often.”

“I’d much rather you didn’t”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” And then they were kissing again and Enjolras’ heartbeat got faster so Combeferre cleared his throat.

“Room full of people here. Take your husband home, Grantaire and look after him. And for god’s sake hold his hand at traffic lights from now on.”

“He’s not a child.” Grantaire protested. Enjolras just smiled and laced his hand with Grantaire’s.

“I wouldn’t mind. I love you.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“Well-“

“Home!” The room shouted collectively and they both laughed. 

“Come on then Apollo. Let’s get you some rest.”

“I love you.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day they were all sat around a few tables in a little café that used to be Enjolras’ favourite, so much so that the waitress automatically brought his order when they saw him. He sat down on one of the tables with Grantaire, Eponine, Feuilly, and Bahorel as he sipped his usual drink and it startled him, making Grantaire laugh and when he gulped it, he coughed a little, not expecting how strong the coffee was going to be. He got a pat on the back for his troubles and drank it again, making a face but not stopping.

“It’s like having a little baby Enjolras.” Bahorel said, chuckling at the confused look on Enjolras’ face.

“Did you know me when I was a baby? How old are you Ba… suet?”

Bahorel immediately stopped laughing and made a faux offended face. “How old do you think I am? It was a joke see cause babies always try things they don’t like-“

“It’s not funny when you explain it, dear.” Feuilly said, at which Bahorel frowned and Enjolras smiled. 

Grantaire leaned towards Enjolras, took his free hand, and whispered so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. “That’s Bahorel. The bald one is Bossuet.” 

Enjolras swallowed and nodded minutely. “Thank you.” He said, and squeezed Grantaire’s hand, which made him smile fondly. He loved looking after Enjolras after how much the blonde had done for him in his lifetime. They continued talking for a few minutes as their friends filed in, filling up more space until three or four tables were taken up in the small café. Enjolras was watching Feuilly, Bahorel and Eponine back and forth, laughing, until a small blonde child came up to Eponine and was going to talk until Enjolras interrupted, not being able to stop himself.

“Gavroche!” At the sound of his name, Gavroche turned and smiled at Enjolras then ran up and hugged him, and Enjolras hugged back, extracting his hand from Grantaire’s.

“Oh my god! They wouldn’t let me see you in hospital are you better? They said you can’t remember things. How come you remember me?” He asked as he pulled away from the hug and sat on the table in front of Enjolras.

“Gavroche! You can’t just ask things like that! Sorry, Enjolras, he-“

“No, it’s fine.” He said to Eponine, giving her a reassuring smile, then turned back to Gavroche. “To tell you the truth I don’t know why I remember you, but tell you what I can remember?” Gavroche nodded. “I remember a little trouble maker nearly giving me a heart attack half way through a meeting by hanging from a beam on the ceiling and nearly falling.” Gavroche looked down, a little ashamed at having his memory being of disappointing Enjolras when he just wanted to help. “But, I also remember catching him when he inevitably fell and then I remember him giving me a little red ribbon that had been carried up there by the wind that someone had lost.” Gavroche smiled. 

“It was Jehan’s.”

“Ah. That I didn’t remember, but I guess nobody’s perfect.” He smiled, and Gavroche laughed.

“But you were so angry! You shouted at me and told me I was to young to be there, because it was dangerous.”

“Yes well, I guess I wasn’t very eager to see you fall when I wasn’t there, now was I?”

“That makes sense. I never understood why it was dangerous.”

Enjolras shrugged. “And I can’t remember. What a pair we make, hm?” Gavroche nodded. 

“I have to go now, I only came to tell Eponine that I passed my test.”

“Your maths test?” Gavroche smiled widely, giving away the answer. “I’m so proud of you, well done! I knew you could do it.” Gavroche flung himself into Enjolras’ arms again, as if it were the first time he was ever able to do so.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, then jumped away from Enjolras and ran off, trying not to let his little happy tears be visible to the group. 

Eponine knew why Gavroche ran off and took Enjolras’ hand on the table. “That means a lot to him, because he knows you don’t lie. Thank you.”

Enjolras made a confused face then turned to Grantaire who leaned in and whispered, “Eponine.”

“It’s no problem, Eponine. He’s a good kid.” 

Eponine retracted her hand and began talking to Bahorel and Feuilly again, leaving Enjolras to turn to Grantaire. “I love you.” Grantaire rolled his eyes.

“Not this again.” He kissed Enjolras’ cheek. “I know you love me, Dear. You proved that enough last night.” Enjolras blushed and Grantaire had to supress the urge to squeal at how cute it was. “You never lost your confidence in the bedroom I was glad to discover.”

“I know more about you than I know about anybody else all together. For example, I know you hate my caffeine habits, but you’ll no doubt drink the other half of my cup, after putting in far too much sugar because you hate coffee, but I wont complain because it makes your kisses sweet, which means that when you’re away and I have to look after myself, I'll put sugar in my coffee and I'll think of you.”

Grantaire smiled and pulled Enjolras into a kiss, which Enjolras took eagerly and happily. When they pulled back Grantaire was teary eyed. “You’ve never told me that.”

“If I knew it would’ve made you cry, I wouldn’t have told you at all. No idea I married a crier.”

“That’s the old Enjolras we all know and love.” Grantaire said, and Enjolras grinned, kissing Grantaire quickly again. 

“Right!” A shout came, and Enjolras looked over to Courfeyrac, who was standing on a table. Enjolras was confused at why the staff didn’t seem to care, but figured that they must be regulars and do this stuff all the time, hence his quick order. “We are gathered here today-“

“Oh god, I’m getting wedding flashbacks.” Enjolras said dryly, and Grantaire burst into laughter, not expecting the joke, along with their other friends, even Courfeyrac, who didn’t seem at all bothered by being interrupted. 

“I love you so much.” Grantaire said through giggles, and Enjolras lit up, grabbing the other man’s hand again and settling their joined hands upon the table as the room settled down. 

“As I was saying, today is the day we each try to jump start Enjolras’ memory, because Combeferre, our very own fountain of mostly-useless-but-sometimes-quite-relevant knowledge thinks it might help. If that’s alright with you, Enjy?” Enjolras nodded then took a minute to register the name.

“I don’t think I like it when you call me that.”

“Damn. I thought for sure it would stick this time. Anyway, without further ado, I’m going first, because this was my idea, and I am in fact Enjolras’ best friend.” Combeferre looked like he was going to argue, but Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “Fine. I am alongside Combeferre, one of Enjolras’ best friends. Jehan, lights please!” He shouted and the café was in darkness for a few seconds until a projected image was painted on the white wall opposite all of them. 

“Courf, have you made a PowerPoint?” Grantaire asked.

“You don’t get to judge, all you had to do was flaunt your pretty face and you were there.” Courfeyrac snapped his fingers, to represent Enjolras’ memory clicking in place, which Enjolras thought was quite clever, but felt like if he told that to Courfeyrac he’d regret it later. “Moving swiftly on! The first slide on our way to the magical story that is the Courfeyrac-Enjolras friendship shows three adorable five year olds, but ignore the one on the end with glasses and a moth t-shirt because he’s completely irrelevant at this point.” There was a deep sigh from Combeferre and Enjolras chuckled, suddenly remembering hearing this exact exchange more than once (“This is a party and it needs glitter, and if a shiny carpet is the sacrifice I must make, it is one I am willing to take!” Exasperated sigh. “Do you ever think about the fact that there’s like millions more legs in the world than arms?” Exasperated sigh. “Yes I broke the vase, but in my defence, Enjolras broke the TV.” Exasperated sigh and betrayed gasp on Enjolras’ part). 

“I did break the TV!” Enjolras shouted at the realisation and Courfeyrac snorted and started laughing hysterically along with Enjolras knowing immediately what he was referring to, and soon Combeferre’s low chuckles were heard joining the two, leaving their other friends dumbfounded. “I’d forgotten.” Enjolras gasped out. “Grantaire did I tell you about the TV?” Grantaire shook his head, unable to keep the joy from his face at seeing Enjolras so happy. “Courf and I were having a nerf war because I’d been studying for four days straight without sleep and he wanted me to go to bed but there was too much caffeine in me so we needed to get rid of energy and he-“ He stopped to giggle. “He shot Combeferre’s favourite blue vase and I tried to catch it, but ended up throwing it at the TV.” He was laughing so much tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes and his sides were starting to hurt. “A-And then I passed out from exhaustion and Combeferre came home to find me and Courf sleeping on the floor around our fucked apartment!”

Courfeyrac piped up at that. “I didn’t want him to just lay there but he was dead weight and who isn’t always up for a floor nap, right? So, Combeferre comes home and kicks us both, and-“

“And Courfeyrac says, ‘Yes I broke the vase, but in my defence, Enjolras broke the TV.’ Enjolras was so offended.” Combeferre finished the sentence, grinning. “He took his last minutes of consciousness to say, ‘hey you backstabbing piece of shit that was so a joint effort’ then passed out again and we had to carry him back to bed. We were watching TV from Courfeyrac’s old, purple, Bratz TV for four weeks after that.” All three were laughing again by the end of the tale along with the rest of the café.

The rest of the ‘meeting’ went like that, with people trying to help Enjolras to recall main events they had experienced together, and Enjolras was pleased to find he remembered quite a lot. He was feeling very relaxed and joyful by the end of the presentations, leaning into Grantaire, who was playing with his hair and kissing him every now and again.

After Joly and Bossuet finished their story about the unluckiest yet best horse riding experience ever with Enjolras’ stolen police horse, Enjolras thought it was over, because everyone had spoken except Grantaire, but then his husband got up and took centre stage, leaving Enjolras looking at him curiously. “I stand before you all today, the proud husband of this wonderful man, and would like to share a few moments I thought he’d like to remember. To start off with, I have this beautiful picture of a candle in the restaurant we had our first date, because he was too shy to get a picture, and then this,” Grantaire clicked the button, to reveal a picture of Enjolras in a massive fuzzy coat with his blushing and smiling face peeking through the top, “is a candid shot from our second date because I needed to show off the absolute God I had just scored a SECOND date with.” Enjolras smiled and felt his cheeks redden at the wondrous tone in Grantaire’s voice. The button was clicked again, revealing a picture of Enjolras in bed from the waist up, not wearing anything but covered in love bites, and covering his face. Enjolras’ mouth fell open and he shook his head. 

“Oh my God, no. That was the first time we- That’s hardly appropriate!” He said, embarrassed. 

“That was the first time you did anything! It was such a magical moment I thought you’d want to re-live it once more. As you can see, ladies and Gentlemen, Enjolras is in fact a gentleman who does wait until the third date to make a move. No doubt advice from you Courfeyrac.” The room laughed as Courfeyrac made no move to deny it.

“I re-lived that enough last night you perv! Turn it over!” Enjolras shouted over the sound over their friends.

“As you wish.” The next slide was no better, in fact was probably worse. “This my friends, would be the result of our fifth date if I recall correctly. What you’re seeing here is on the right side, a nude painting of Enjolras with the tiniest bit of cloth covering the thing we all want to see, and on the left, behind the painting, would be the muse himself, sitting pretty smug if I’m correct.”

Enjolras buried his face in his hands to hide his burning cheeks. “I can’t believe you. You said no one was going to see that! You promised!”

“Actually it was an exchange. A deal of sorts, of which you didn’t keep up your end.” Enjolras looked confused for a second then realisation hit him and his mouth made a small ‘O’. “There it is.”

“’I wont show anybody if you promise to keep still.’ I remember. I made you stop painting twice.”

“Yes you did, you little minx. Now quieten down and enjoy the show.” Enjolras nodded and did as he was told, and was enjoying going through the slides of his and Grantaire’s relationship, and when they got to one where Enjolras was on one knee he gasped and put a hand over his mouth. 

“I remember, Grantaire. I took you along the pier and made the artists give you individual drawings of things you liked with little hints and a rose per canvas, pre paid for. By the time we were at the end of the pier you couldn’t hold them all and nearly tripped.” He gave a watery chuckle. “I made sure the sky was clear and told you to look at the stars while I fiddled with the box, and when you turned around I was on one knee in front of you. You dropped everything. One fell on my foot sharply but I didn’t feel it at the time. I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. I thought ‘how can I give so many speeches to so many people, and be so ridiculously dumbed down at the most important moment of my life’ so I sucked it up and asked you to marry me. You cried. Again. I should have known.” He said, even though he was crying now. “Courfeyrac jumped out with the camera as you said yes and you kissed me, and I’d never been happier than in that moment, and I’ve been that happy ever since.”

“If you didn’t want me to cry you shouldn’t have said that.” Grantaire said, wiping his own eyes with his sleeve. “Would you like to see the wedding?” He asked, moving back over to Enjolras and sitting beside him, kissing him just as passionately as when he’d said ‘yes’.

When they broke apart they were still crying and smiling so wide it was hurting their faces but they couldn’t stop.

“Yes I want to see the wedding. I love you.”

“I gathered when you proposed.”

“You’re supposed to say I love you too.”

“Want to try again?” Enjolras nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The café groaned collectively, followed by laughter.

“Get a room!” Courfeyrac yelled.

“Shall we?” Enjolras asked.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Check out my tumblr for more enjoltaire ;): enjolrushed


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